Our lives are a collection of moments, like framed photos hanging in the hallway. Some are big and important, others small seeming insignificant, and then there are the ones that cover the peeling paint and holes in the wall, but they all come together to display something greater, a well-fought life.
Audrey Blair Lachapelle had quite a life. From a distance one might rule it average and completely un-extraordinary, but Audrey was not someone to be overlooked. Her closest confidants knew this and took it to their graves, whether it was before or after Audrey’s passing.
It was a cool, grey day when it happened. Dainty yellow flowers were just beginning to bloom after months of incessant precipitation.
It was the flowers that caught young Peter’s attention as he shouted to his father joyfully. Charlie smiled at his son, picking him up and carrying him inside of the creaking house, belonging to the old and frail, Audrey.
It was he, who found her, peaceful, as if in a deep sleep. The only issue with the image was that Audrey’s forget-me-not blue eyes were open, gazing upon the spider-web filled ceiling. He grabbed her hand, gnarled like the limbs of an ancient oak, and shed his tears for his beloved mother.
He of course knew it was coming. She had been ill for quite some time and Audrey’s ninety third birthday was right around the corner, reminding them all of her inevitable death.
And so, it was Audrey’s time to leave this Earth, and there was nothing a teary-eyed middle aged man could do about it.
It was an exceptionally sunny day in Portland, lacking the usual rain. A funeral was held in a small chapel, but the seats were all filled with loving people Audrey had come to know in her many years of living.
The ceremony was a celebration of her life, rather than a sob-fest. Family and friends talked mostly of more recent events, having not been alive when Audrey was young, the most important events of Audrey’s life were not spoken about. Even so, loved ones were able to paint beautiful pictures of Audrey with their own words.
No one mentioned Audrey’s teenage years, only her life as a mother. It’s quite ironic that the most life-changing and personality-shaping events were not shared at a ceremony that claimed to be a celebration of her life.
Maybe it was because she whispered her secrets to very few people, or maybe it just didn’t seem fitting to talk about, but Audrey, like many people had trouble when she was a young girl, deciphering who she was as a person.
To fully understand the complex being called by the name Audrey Blair, we must start from the very beginning.
